Fandom: Star Wars
Prompt: fanfic50's #47 - Creep
Word Count: 668
Summary: An Anakin vignette, told in second person (I don't think I've done that yet here?)
Author's Notes: It's dark. And it's thanks to a fic albumsontheside posted recently which reminded me of this idea that's been kicking around in my brain for a while.
You awaken before she does. Drained as she is by the leech in her belly, and given the restless nature of your own sleep these days, this doesn’t surprise you. You want to wrap your arms around her and hold her tightly, keep her here and real and alive, the possessive action screaming a silent “fuck you” to the insidious visions.
But you don’t. It’s still early, and she needs her rest. You creep out of bed, careful not to disturb her. She’s so delicate now; you’re almost afraid to touch her. Last night, she wanted you to, but you couldn’t. Not with it ever there, lurking, waiting for the opportunity to make your visions a reality…and to make this all the more your fault.
Truthfully, if anyone’s to blame, it’s her. She was careless. Or was she? Did she want this to happen? You have your suspicions. You tried to act pleased when she told you; you smiled, you said it was wonderful, that you’d never been happier. All lies. She knew it, too, you could tell… but she needed to believe them.
It’s not that you don’t ever want to be a father -- just not yet. It’s too soon. You’re not ready. You weren’t expecting this. The galaxy’s still at war. It’s not the right time.
You look out across the early morning skylane traffic at the place you should be right now: the Jedi Temple, regally silhouetted in the golden glow of the rising sun. How will you ever explain this to the Council? How infuriating it is that you’ve been conditioned to feel ashamed for ordinary acts such as taking a wife and starting a family. After the war ends, when you’ve fulfilled your destiny by destroying the Sith… how could they deny you then? You’ll make them realize how outdated the Code is.
Unless it has its way, trading her life for its own.
She stirs, and you turn around to watch her wake, the sunlight illuminating her pretty face. She calls for you. Asks if you’re all right. She’s so beautiful, so precious, scrunching her face to squint at the light, her rich brown locks in disarray.
You lie, of course. Say all is well. And you sit beside her, smiling, basking in the love you feel emanating from her through the Force. You would do anything to protect her… from the war, from the visions… even from it.
It kicks her. She presses your hand to her distended abdomen, excited to share this with you. You know how desperate she is for you to experience her joy, to embrace this life the two of you have created… you feel sick. But you smile at her and feign enthusiasm. You feel it push up against her hard belly (it used to be so soft). You know you should be marveling at the sensation; instead, you find yourself thinking how simple it would be to snuff out this threat right now.
Your hand clenches slightly. Your false smile fades as you feel the Force surging through you, electrifying you in a way you’ve never felt before, and it’s so vibrantly there, at your fingertips, awaiting your command…as if the Force seeks to obey you.
The look on your face scares her, and her alarm shatters the unholy connection. What came over you? It’s wrong, so wrong -- you should be the obedient one, ever the servant to the will of the Force. And how could you even think of…
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You back away from her – from it. You mumble a half-hearted apology, something about needing to get to the Temple at once. You dress yourself quickly, haphazardly, and she watches you with big, sorrowful eyes. She’s upset, wondering what’s wrong, and your hasty reassurances don’t set her mind at ease. You’ll deal with it later. When you’re stronger… when you’ve figured things out. You just hope you can get out of there before the tears come.